


Colorful Dimensions

by Nienna



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:13:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2582615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nienna/pseuds/Nienna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of humorous drabbles based on canon trivia. The prompts were: Gaius' obsession with swords, Rideaux's GHS wallpaper, and Ivar's poor taste in clothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Compulsive Shopping (Gaius/Wingul)

**Author's Note:**

> These drabbles were written as part of a Tumblr writing game. As usual, they're mostly on the silly side. Enjoy!

"Ah, what a wondrous masterpiece! Such flawless balance, and this grip… Even the hilt is a work of art!"

Gaius’ enthusiastic words were followed by a stifled yawn, the sound subtle under the crackling of the large fireplace. He paid it no mind, and continued weighting the blade in his hands, remarking on how incredible it was.

Wingul stepped next to the king, clearing his throat. “Your Highness, I believe the smithy is growing tired. We have been here long enough; I trust your choice is overdue.”

"Nonsense, Wingul," Gaius replied, putting down the sword and beginning to inspect another, "We’ve been here for half an hour at most!"

The blacksmith yawned again, shooting a blatant glance at his wooden clock. Wingul suppressed a sigh. “It’s been a little over four hours, Your Highness.”

"Four hours?" Gaius replied in surprise, turning towards the clock. "You’re right; time does fly when you’re immersed! Thankfully, we still have two hours before my next appointment." With that, he returned to the inspection of the blade in his hands.

This time, it was the blacksmith who spoke. “Forgive me, Your Highness, but I would like to close my shop for the night. See, my family is waiting for me so we can have supper together. If you would be so obliging, Your Highness…?”

Gaius furrowed his brows, deep in thought. “I understand, my good man. Yes, I have reached a decision.” He returned the sword to its display, crossing his arms. “I will take all of them.”

The smithy’s eyes widened, his tired expression fading into a wide grin. “Of course, Your Highness! A wise choice!”

Wingul, on the other hand, looked horrified. He moved closer to Gaius, dropping his voice to a whisper, “Don’t you think all of them is a little… _excessive?_ ”

Gaius raised an eyebrow. “There’s nothing excessive about good-quality swords.”

"You already own hundreds of them, for the Spirits’ sake!"

"And you own hundreds of books," Gaius replied, smiling softly. "To each their own, wouldn’t you say?"

Wingul frowned. “I read each and every of my books, Gaius.”

"And I make a point of using each of my swords at least once."

"This is _different_ ,” Wingul insisted. “You always take the same ones to battle. Swinging the others for a few minutes during practice is hardly worth the purchase! Meanwhile, all of my books have aided me in becoming a better strategist, a better man for our country.”

Gaius tilted his head, his smile widening. “Of course they have. I am sure that one red-bound collection you hide under your bed has assisted you significantly in becoming a… _better_ _man_.”

Wingul’s face turned crimson, his jaw dropping in a rather undignified fashion. “H-How did you…?!”

"Excuse me, Your Highness," the smithy interrupted, "Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing at all, master blacksmith," Gaius replied, the smile still on his lips, "As I said, we will take all of them."

This time, Wingul didn’t protest.


	2. Photo Booth (Julius/Rideaux)

"I’m not going with you."

"Don’t be a killjoy, Julius. It will be _fun_.”

"I am _not_ going with you!”

Rideaux rolled his eyes, sighing. They were in a mall, a few feet away from a particularly lively area. It was packed with teenage girls, chatting cheerfully while hopping from a photo booth to another, holding colorful sheets with the pictures they had just taken.

Once more, Rideaux sighed. “You are such a chicken.”

"I— I am not!" Julius stammered, growing red. "We’re adults, Rideaux. We’re not supposed to be taking purikuras! Why would you want a picture of us on a pink background with glittery stars?"

"To use as my GHS background."

Julius blinked in disbelief. “You have to be kidding.”

"Oh, Julius," Rideaux began in a mocking tone, smiling deviously, "Why wouldn’t I want such an adorable rendition of my lovely coworker? I’m sure you would look _gorgeous_ with rainbow hearts all around your pretty face!”

Face crimson, Julius turned to leave, but Rideaux yanked on his arm before he had the chance to take the first step. Having been throw off balance, Rideaux managed to drag him for a few seconds before Julius planted his feet on the ground, refusing to move. “I am not taking a picture in those stupid booths!”

Silence. The merry chatter from the teenage girls stopped. Julius had spoken loudly enough that no one could’ve failed to hear. Dozens of young, angry glares were being directed at him.

And, of course, one older, smug one. Rideaux smirked, tapping on his shoulder. “My, my, Julius! I am sure you did not mean to say that. I suppose you will have to prove to these lovely young ladies that their hobby isn’t beneath you, am I correct?”

Sighing dejectedly, Julius was prodded into the nearest empty booth.

And, on the following day, Rideaux made sure to show off his new GHS wallpaper to every single Spirius employee.


	3. Makeover (Jude/Ivar)

“What’s this place?”

Ivar stood in front of a clothing store. Jude was by his side, tugging at his own collar anxiously.

“Why are we here, Jude?”

Taking a deep breath, Jude finally said, “That’s the place I wanted to go with you, Ivar.”

“But this is a clothing store!” He protested, pointing indignantly at the display. “I thought… I thought you were taking me on a… A d-da-dat…!”

“A what?”

“Forget it,” Ivar grumbled, looking away. “No wonder a stupid phony like you would need help buying his own clothes.”

Jude sighed; when Ivar called him a phony, it meant he was very upset. Still, it was too late to turn back. “We’re not here to buy clothes for me, Ivar.”

Ivar blinked for a moment, before crossing his arms. “So you dragged me here to help you buy someone a present, I see! How typical of you, phony, to rely on my infinitely superior taste!”

Jude shook his head somberly, dreading how Ivar would react to his following words. “Ivar, we’re here to buy clothes for _you._ ”

“Me?” Ivar furrowed his brows in confusion. “But I have plenty of clothes.”

“It’s not about quantity, Ivar, but… quality.”

Jaw dropping, Ivar nearly jumped back in outrage. “How _dare_ you! My fashion sense is impeccable!”

“Ivar, you wear pants over pants!”

“They’re _tights!”_

“How is it any better?!” Jude exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “No one wears pants over tights, Ivar!”

Ivar seemed about to explode, his voice shaky as he blurted, “Maybe I’m just ahead of everyone else!”

Jude paused, realizing he might’ve overdone it. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, “I’m sorry, Ivar.”

The words took Ivar unaware, and the incensed reply he had been preparing died in his mouth. He looked down at the floor, muttering a subdued “Whatever.” He sounded more hurt than angry.

Stepping forward, Jude placed a hand on Ivar's shoulder. “You know, your outfit might not be common, but now that I think about it, it actually suits you. It’s pretty unique” - he paused, smiling - “Just like you.”

Surprised, Ivar looked up, his eyes meeting Jude’s. Almost immediately, he turned away, feeling his face grow warm. “I-I guess I can let you buy me something,” he muttered, the color in his cheeks deepening. “But you’re paying!”

Jude chuckled, taking Ivar’s arm and leading him into the store. “It will be my gift to you, then.”


End file.
